


The Beard Wears Darren Criss

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Beard Fic, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I knew it. You’re only with me for the beard.”</p><p>“The beard that you didn’t have when we started dating?”</p><p>“It was preemptive. You were just biding your time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beard Wears Darren Criss

Chris isn’t exactly a morning person, but he’s not exactly a  _sleeping_  person, either. It doesn’t matter how tired he ends up being when he does wake up; he’s up when he’s up and he just has to make it through the day on as much coffee and Diet Coke as is available to him.

It’s usually a good thing. It means he can get up and start his day early and plan to end it early (even if he almost always ends it late, anyways). But sometimes Chris doesn’t really plan for unanticipated obstacles.

Like Darren. 

He’s normally a much clingier sleeper, but on this particular morning his stomach is pressed against the bed and Chris had woken up half-splayed over his back. With his hand beneath Darren’s stomach. With his hand  _stuck_  and  _numb_  beneath Darren’s stomach.

It would be easy to roll away except there is the ever familiar ball of warmth that is Brian curled up right at the small of his back.

 _Really_. It’s like they  _plan_  this.

The sun is so low in the sky that the light hardly sneaks in through the blinds. Chris peers over Darren at his alarm clock—almost always just used as a normal clock—and closes his eyes with a groan. It’s just after seven in the morning. He drops his forehead to the divot between Darren’s shoulder blades, nose skimming along t-shirt fabric.

He could try to go back to sleep but it wouldn’t go very well. Even on his days off he doesn’t have the luxury of sleeping in—fucking body clock. He could also, of course, try to get up anyways, but that would mean waking up  _both_  Darren and Brian. And they  _really_  aren’t morning people. That, and Darren would most likely just wrap himself around Chris like a sloth and  _make_  him stay.

Chris smiles fondly, inching so that he’s covering more of Darren’s body with his own and stopping only when he can see Darren’s face.

He likes to watch Darren sleep. He doesn’t let Darren know this, of course—after all, Darren would  _never_  let him live it down—so he never mentions anything. Like how sometimes Darren’s nose twitches just a little bit, just briefly, or how he’ll mumble so softly and so close together that Chris has never been able to actually hear anything he says.

Chris lays against the back of Darren’s shoulder and watches. Unlike every other minute of the day, Darren’s eyes are still; there’s no flicker of his eyelids, no flutter of his eyelashes. They lay softly against Darren’s cheeks and Chris remembers the phantom strokes from when Darren left butterfly kisses all over his cheek.

Darren’s nose twitches and Chris smiles into his shoulder to keep himself from cooing. Even with a beard that makes him look so much older than he is, he’s still such a child when he sleeps. It’s easy for Chris to forget the fact that Darren is  _older_  than him.

Bringing his hand up from where it’s draped loosely at Darren’s hip, Chris curls his fingers over the swell of Darren’s bicep, fingers slipping under the loose sleeve of the shirt and toying there a bit.

There’s a light thump behind him and when Chris turns he sees Brian squeezing his way through the slightly open bedroom door.  _Thank god_. He really has to pee.

He inches back slowly, slowly, but then Darren’s fingers are lacing with his.

 _Dammit. So close_.

“No, sleep,” Darren murmurs, voice low and thick with sleep.

“Yes, I’m not waking you up,” Chris assures and Darren smiles. “But I’m getting up.” Darren frowns, shaking his head and pressing his body up and back into Chris’s.

“No.”

“Darren.” There’s a hint of amusement in Chris’s voice. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Not allowed,” Darren mumbles. He continues to push against Chris until he’s forced off of Darren’s back and onto his side. Chris pulls his hand free and feels the tingling sensation of it waking up, but Darren is quick to take advantage of the new situation and seal his back completely to Chris’s chest.

“Cuddle whore,” Chris murmurs affectionately.

“Slut, Christopher,” Darren says around a yawn, pressing their joined hands to hid chest. “Cuddle  _slut_.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Chris hooks his chin over Darren’s shoulder and noses at Darren’s ear, shifting forward until he can press his face to Darren’s.

“I think we’ve reached the you-have-a-problem stage.” Darren cracks open one of his eyes to look at Chris.

“Mmm, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you’re addicted to my facial hair.”

Chris nuzzles against it at the reminder.

“I knew it. You’re only with me for the beard.”

Chris chuckles softly, the vibration of his chest shaking Darren slightly.

“The beard that you didn’t have when we started dating?”

“It was preemptive. You were just biding your time.”

“Go back to sleep, Dare.” Chris kisses gently at his jaw. “You’re becoming delusional.”

“Mmm, sleep.” Darren closes his eyes and for a moment it’s silent except for their breathing. “Wait.” His eyebrows furrow and he opens his eye again. “I’m not  _delusional_.”

“Do you remember when you accused me of dating you for your beard?”

“Chris, that was like twenty seconds ago.”

“Darren, you accused me of  _dating you for your beard_.”

“Well, you  _are_.”

“You’re ridiculous. I just  _like_  it.” Chris nuzzles against it. “It’s like cuddling a tiny woodland creature.”

“Those jokes still aren’t funny.”

Chris kisses his cheek.

“They’re a little funny, admit it.” He rocks Darren back and forth playfully and he huffs, but smiles.

“ _Fine_. A  _little_.” Darren reaches up to touch his beard and frowns slightly. “It is a little ridiculous, huh?”

“I love it,” Chris hums.

“Yes, I know, you love the  _beard_ , not  _me_. You can take my  _beard_  to all your red carpet events and when people ask you, “Chris, what is the beard wearing tonight?” you can say, “Oh, just Darren Criss.” And then you and the beard will spend all night getting  _really_  drunk—”

“Darren, has it occurred to you that you’ve put  _way_  too much thought into this?”

“ _No_ ,” he says petulantly. Chris laughs quietly, lifting his head and then grabbing Darren by his cheeks until his mouth is puckered and he’s turned towards Chris.

“As interesting as it would be to see your  _beard_  get drunk and do whatever else you had planned for your  _beard_ , it’s a  _beard_ , Darren.” He tries to respond but Chris keeps his grip on Darren’s face. “And at the end of the day, it’s attached to your face until you shave it off. And you know what?”

Darren quacks out a word similar to  _what_  that has Chris grinning. He lets go of Darren’s face and, before Darren can start making faces trying to regain the feeling in his cheeks, he ducks forward and kisses Darren quickly. Darren makes a pleased noise of surprise and then a sound of displeasure as Chris pulls away.

“I’ll still love you when it’s gone.”

Darren smiles, one of those soft sleepy smiles that not a lot of people see but that are beautiful and amazing all in their own right.

“Now will you let me go to the bathroom?”

“No.”

“Dammit Darren.”


End file.
